Pleasure in Piracy
by Anna Rousseau
Summary: Will and Elizabeth's disasterous wedding triggers a spur of the moment decision which sends their lives in a different direction after a chance meeting with someone they's rather not see. RR, My first PotC fic, but I have written before :o)


Title: 'Pleasure in Piracy' (1/?)  
  
Chapter I: 'So I Married a Bloody Pirate'  
  
Author: Anna Rousseau annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk  
  
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean  
  
Genre: Adventure/Comedy/Light Romance  
  
Pairing: WT/ES  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Set: After 'PotC:tCotBP'  
  
Summary: Will and Elizabeth's honeymoon isn't quite what they'd planned, at least not their unwitting holiday companions.  
  
Warning: Some fluff, but don't let that put you off, there is a plot!  
  
Notes: Wow, I haven't written a piece of fic since the start of the year, had a little bit of writers' block and too much studying due to A Levels (which thankfully went well so I'm off to study Modern History and Modern Languages in October). So this is a fresh start for me, and a fresh fandom. Yes, its another first timer writing PotC. Be prepared to Wince!  
  
Disclaimer: Sadly (for me) I don't own that wonderful (snort) ride PotC - it's the property of Disney (though what Walt's say about it is another thing). The characters of PotC belong (most probably) to the genius authors of Shrek who brought the whole thing to life... and no, Johnny Depp is not mine. Sadly he's married. I shall now weep onto my key board.  
  
'PLEASURE IN PIRACY'  
  
====================  
  
Chapter I - 'So I Married a Bloody Pirate'  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
The new Mrs William Turner let what could only be described as a hearty groan out of her mouth as she collapsed into the soft wool mattress beneath her, the newly monogrammed linen sheets (imported from Ireland, of course, nothing but the best for the Governor's little sugarplum) cooling her like the gentle sea breeze which floated through the windows opposite her, tossing the Belgian lace curtains like a coconut dropped into the Caribbean Sea.  
  
Will stood at the end of the bed, a small smile playing on his lips as he examined Elizabeth, her typically aristocratic features overwhelmed by her exasperation. Their wedding day had been, well, eventful to say the least.  
  
"I am sure that your father meant no harm," Will said tentatively, moving one of the silken curtains hanging from the four poster bed to the side and sitting next to her as he proceeded to pull off his boots.  
  
Elizabeth growled and reluctantly climbed off the bed, reaching behind her back to pull at her stays as Will winced fearing that the exquisite, but painful, French wedding dress would bear the brunt of his young wife's anger. "No, no harm at all, I suppose," she said as she struggled to free herself from the layers of whalebone and corsetry. "First of all he practically ensures that... he'll never have grand-children by giving me this... bloody... dress... which has probably buggered up my insides so much that I think that my lungs... have been displaced... by my stomach, and then... then... he implies to my Great Aunt that I went slightly mad when I moved here and he's only humouring my match with you because he's... not... sure... if... I'd murder... someone... otherwise... oh urrrghh!"  
  
Will quickly rushed over to Elizabeth as she stomped her feet. Her fingers had somehow been trapped in her stays and now she couldn't move her arms from behind her back. "Perfect, just per- bloody- fect."   
  
Suppressing a laugh as he watched Elizabeth thrash about helplessly, her ivory silk and brocade wedding dress refusing to release her, Will disentangled her fingers tenderly. "Personally, I've always found the idea of a woman who is slightly mad quite intriguing," he finally laughed softly and turned her to face him, tracing a finger along her flustered cheek.  
  
Elizabeth snorted; trying once again with her newly freed hands to release herself from the torture device known to some as high fashion. "This is all punishment, you know. The corset, the allusions to my mental equilibrium, the fact that he's forcing us to stay in this house only yards away from his own chamber. My father's ideas of course. The Governor's daughter is supposed to wed a man of position, and I chose a bloody pirate."  
  
Will feigned a hurt look. Elizabeth's grumpy expression softened for a moment and she forgot about her troublesome stays. "Don't look at me so, Will Turner. Even though my father's tried to convince my family that you're a Lieutenant in His Majesty's Royal Navy, you know that you're the only bloody pirate for me."  
  
"That's reassuring," Will smiled, gazing at his wife as she took tens of pins from her hair and threw them haphazardly onto her dressing table, shaking her tightly curled hair loose.  
  
"I hope you are aware that we shall have to abscond at dawn tomorrow, to ensure that we actually are permitted some time to be recklessly in love without being under the prying eyes of my father," Elizabeth said, watching Will as he laid his tailed coat over a chair, admiring the shape of strong muscles she could glimpse beneath his thin shirt. "A deserted island, perhaps."  
  
Will raised an eyebrow, "Speaking of such, I was going to ask you sometime about what happened that time you and the infamous Jack Sparrow were marooned on a desert island."  
  
Elizabeth sat on the end of the bed and pulled her slippers off and then lifted her skirts, unhooking her stockings from their garter belt. "Oh," she paused, looking up at Will provocatively with smoky eyes. "A young impressionable girl, excessive amounts of bootleg rum and the infamous, suave and debonair Captain Jack Sparrow, seducer, pillager and debaucher extraordinaire. On a desert island, the sand, the sea, the soft light of a wood fire." Elizabeth started to slowly slide her silk stockings down her legs in a teasing manner, her eyes focused on Will's. "It paints a very sordid picture for innocent minds such as ours. You know you were the only outlaw on my mind."  
  
Will narrowed his eyes, helping Elizabeth to remove her stockings, his rough blacksmith's hands brushing her soft skin. "But you do have some complimentary adjectives to describe him."  
  
"Only if you like to be called a pillager, my love," Elizabeth breathed, lazily drawing Will to sit on the bed beside her.  
  
"Perhaps a pirate such as myself would not mind such rough words from sweet lips such as yours," he caught her mouth with his lips taking her in a sharp, forceful but lingering kiss as she permitted the hand which still laid on her leg to caress her smooth skin. They broke apart, breathlessly. "The rough with the smooth."  
  
"I'll call you many such rough words worthy of a buccaneer," Elizabeth beckoned, pushing him down onto the bed, and reaching into his trouser pocket. She pulled out the Governor's gift to his new son-in-law, an exquisite Spanish switch blade inlaid with Aztec gold, and opened the knife, offering it to Will. "But only if you act like the rough pirate I know you are and cut me out of these bloody stays in manner befitting the ravishment of a fair virgin."   
  
Elizabeth looked at him suggestively, offering him the curve of her back and the stays threatening to burst as the result of her heavy breathing. "Savvy?"  
  
Will took the knife and grinned at Elizabeth, tossing his waistcoat to the floor and setting about the desecration of Elizabeth's corset. "Savvy."  
  
***  
  
The sun rose high in a misty sky the net morning over Governor Swann's mansion, but just as the Governor sat down to a full English breakfast and the latest month old Times from London, the butler entered with a Naval officer trailing behind him.  
  
"Captain Herrington," the Governor smiled, "please do come in and take tea with me, I don't expect that my daughter will awake so soon, especially after such draining nuptial celebrations."  
  
Herrington stayed standing, "On the contrary, Governor. It appears that Miss Swann awoke before many in the town, and that she and her husband have commandeered one of our new frigates, the Intrepid, to be exact."  
  
Governor Swann, in mid sip of his tea, spat it out, his face red. "What?"  
  
***  
  
Three days at sea had dissolved the tension that had been so evident on Elizabeth's face on her wedding day, but it had done nothing to dampen the fervour of their passion. After hours of searching for what Elizabeth deemed the perfect island, they finally decided on a palmtree lined golden island with what seemed to be a leafy forest and a crystal clear, shallow, corally shore line.  
  
"Oh, Will," Elizabeth breathed into his ear, her arms around his waist as he stood at the helm, his shirt flapping in the breeze against Elizabeth and she took a deep breath of the clean air. "It's absolutely wonderful."  
  
Will smiled back at her and reached back to caress her slender neck with his hand, "Looks like there's a deep bay in that cove ahead where we can dock."  
  
"Well then, if we're going ashore I'd better make myself presentable," Elizabeth said coyly, looking down at her attire, namely one of Will's linen shirts.  
  
"Why bother?" Will chanced, casting an appreciative eye over her long graceful legs, so often cruelly hidden by those voluminous skirts favoured by fashionable ladies. "It's just me and you and a desert island."  
  
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "I may be married to a pirate, but I still have my principles."  
  
Will grinned and started to steer the Intrepid into dock.  
  
***  
  
"Ahhh, this is absolutely incredible," Elizabeth sighed, lying on the pure white sand, the sparkling blue sea licking the soles of her bare feet and her lightly corseted shift spread about her like an ethereal light. "Come on, Will."  
  
"One moment," he replied. Elizabeth opened one of her closed eyes curiously.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Will pulled a bottle and two glasses from their rowing boat and bounded over to her, landing with a thud when he dropped his weight onto the sand next to her. "Provisions."  
  
"Ah, what do we have here?" Elizabeth fingered the label on the bottle. "Hmm, Her Majesty's Royal Navy certainly doesn't go without."  
  
"Well, the captains don't, of that I am certain," Will replied, pulling at the cork with a large grin.  
  
Elizabeth extended the glasses, propping herself up against him. "Here's to one stolen moment of bliss, may there be many more ahead of us."  
  
Will finished pouring and took one of the glasses, "To His Majesty's Royal Navy."  
  
Elizabeth took a sip of the wine, "Ah yes, God bless the King."  
  
"Now, wasn't there something we were supposed to do when we got here?" Will asked, his hand running along her shoulders. "Some act of piracy for us to take pleasure in, perhaps."  
  
Elizabeth let herself fall backwards into his arms, tossing her glass over Will's shoulder. "Hmm, your choice, we either get blind drunk on some of His Majesty's finest vintage or you can have your way with me, you scoundrel."  
  
"An offer to which I cannot help but acquiesce," Will murmured, drawing his arms about Elizabeth and taking her lips hostage with his own.  
  
"Oh, pardonnez moi, old chap," came a slurred but unforgettable voice from few paces off. "Nice ship, told you I'd make a pirate of you yet, Turner."  
  
Elizabeth and Will sprung apart and turned around slowly, not quite believing their ears. The one and only Captain Jack Sparrow was standing uneasily with a bottle of rum in his hand squinting against the bright sunlight at the Intrepid. The one and only bronzed buccaneer with more beads in his hair than there were in any respecting woman's jewellery box, and on his left wrist he was sporting a very weighty chunk of Aztec gold which shone brightly in the searing sun.  
  
"What are you doing here," Will hissed, slowly getting up from the sand, hiding the semi-clad Elizabeth behind him protectively.  
  
Jack tipped his rum bottle upside down and was astonished to find it empty. He tossed it away disdainfully and staggered towards the abandoned bottle of wine pilfered from the Intrepid. "Picking up some provisions," he explained, gesturing flamboyantly towards the discarded bottle of rum. "Surely, my dear lass you remember being here before and enjoying an enchanting evening of these very such provisions with the infamous Capt'n Jack Sparrow."  
  
Elizabeth's eyes darted about the island lying in front of her, "Oh, bloody hell, this isn't that damn island, is it Will?" She demanded angrily.  
  
"Quite a saucy wench, that one, good on you my boy," Jack commented slyly to Will. "Though, I feel obliged to point out that she wasn't nearly so worried about covering up her fine figure the last time we were here."  
  
Will had learnt to take such comments with a pinch of salt, but Elizabeth was in the mood for an angry retort. "Well, I seem to remember that all your 'provisions' went up in flame, so be gone with you."  
  
Jack swayed over to her and tapped his nose. "I think you may be forgetting one small fact, my dear lass." He threw his hands to the side. "I'm Capt'n Jack Sparrow. And the Sparrow has more than one hiding place."  
  
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Well I suppose you'll be leaving soon, then."  
  
Jack gave her a slow smile and tipped the bottle of wine to his lips. "On the contrary, my fair filly," he replied with a slight hiccup. He turned slowly, as if he were making a move to leave, but wasn't quite sure of his footing.  
  
"Well then. Sorry to burst in on your tete á tete, my friends. If you'd be so kind I'll take leave of you scallywags and I'll be off to supervise the loading of some these fine provisions onto the good old Black Pearl. If you're interested in menage a trois," Jack paused, his anglicised French drawing another small smile to his lips, "Capt'n Jack Sparrow's in the lagoon due West."  
  
He turned to stagger back along the cove, bottle in one hand and the other held out as if to aid his balance. Turning around he said behind his hand to Elizabeth in conspiratorial tones, "I've got a bigger mast than the eunuch's, love. Savvy?"  
  
Jack Sparrow stumbled off into the distance, whilst Will let out a small cry of indignation.   
  
"Perhaps I should examine his claim," Elizabeth suggested despite her irritation, a smile playing on her lips as she cast a look at Will's britches.  
  
Will raised an eyebrow and picked Elizabeth up, tossing her over his shoulder and made a run for the sea, before dunking them both in the pearl-like surf before she could cry out in protest.  
  
***  
  
Please review, any comments, constructive criticism welcomed. Also, I'd like to hear from anyone who has studied Baudelaire's 'Les Fleurs du Mal' - I could do with a study-pal!  
  
annadelamico@yahoo.co.uk  
  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~  
  
Everybody says that I'm looking for a home now  
  
Looking for a girl or I'm looking for a boy now  
  
But I can just let it go  
  
And I can still learn to grow  
  
Into a child again  
  
Silence is easy  
  
It just becomes me  
  
You don't even know me  
  
So why lie about me  
  
-SEE THE LIGHT-WWW.STARSAILOR.NET-SILENCEISEASY-  
  
~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~#~ 


End file.
